


body like a prayer

by redledgers



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/F, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Content, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/pseuds/redledgers
Summary: Eve admires the way the rope bites her shifting muscles, the way it seems alive on her skin.
Relationships: Eve/Mazikeen (Lucifer TV)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	body like a prayer

**Author's Note:**

> thank u to obli for being a second set of eyes  
> title from zolita's "like heaven"

The ropes she chooses are soft and dark, the cords braided together but still sturdy enough to hold their place without too much bite. Their inky blackness stands in contrast to the silver sheets on Eve’s bed, because even in the comfort of her small home, she has space for luxury. She directs Maze to stand at the foot of the bed, unraveling the hank as Maze undresses. “Thank you,” she says, stepping close to press a kiss at the corner of Maze’s cheek. But she shies away when Maze wants more, trailing a loop of rope down her side as she withdraws. 

She is reminded, in these moments, that Maze is a predator as she stands still and simply watches Eve move about the space. But she is a predator who is also gentle and caring, and Eve trusts her completely, enough to be vulnerable here and turn her body over to pleasure. She waits an extra moment longer than she wants just to see Maze motionless before her.

Eve begins weaving and tying, ropes hushing against each other, shifting in her hands and leaving pleasant sensations. She builds diamonds across the planes of Maze’s body and lays the ropes gently across her folds, crouching to press kisses where the rope cuts just above her hip bones. She knows from experience how it feels to be on the receiving end of this, but even the process of giving has her sliding into a meditative state as she works. She rewards Maze with soft kisses across her ribcage, over the swell of her breasts, and up the line of her jaw. “You’re being so good,” she says, teeth scraping against the tender flesh of Maze’s ear. And Maze’s hum is the first noise she’s made through this whole process, the sound of it bringing life back into the space. “Lay down for me.”

Maze does as instructed, settling back in the center of the bed. Eve admires the way the rope bites her shifting muscles, the way it seems alive on her skin. The extra lines and knots fill out an otherwise simple harness, and it suits Maze like armor, framing her stomach, her breasts, her cunt. When Eve has had her fill, she crouches beside the leather bag in the corner and withdraws a smaller hank of red rope. She feels Maze’s eyes on her as she steps toward the bed, shedding her silk robe along the way. Eve climbs onto the bed, kneeling beside Maze, and presses the rope into her palm. “Now me,” she says.

There’s not enough rope to do something elaborate, and Eve has chosen the length on purpose. This is  _ her _ rope, the one she treated under the guidance of Lucifer until she liked the way it felt on her skin, between her legs. Maze sits up, unwinding the rope and letting it fall across her lap as she examines it. With careful precision, she begins to work her way down Eve’s forearm, weaving and twisting until a snake wraps around her arm and comes to rest its head in the palm of her hand, to be crushed or to be cherished, whichever she so chooses. Eve cradles it, feeling the bite of the rope against her flesh as she moves her wrist. 

Warmth pools low in her stomach, and she leans forward to give Maze a kiss as if it would quench her desires temporarily. She wonders briefly if she should tie off Maze's hands, but the solemn weight of trust is too much to let go of. "Lay back," she says, standing once again. She flexes her hand around the snake head as she walks to her dresser and opens the top drawer. She doesn't have many toys, but they are  _ hers _ , bringing her more pleasure than she thought was possible. She taps a finger on her chin, considering her options, but it is just for show. Eve knows which one she wants.

The vibrator is small but powerful, and when she displays it on her untied hand, Maze licks her lips. She would speak, if she were able, would say something sensual or blunt, but she has agreed to follow Eve's lead tonight. Her trust cracks the shell around Eve’s heart and exposes it to something she had always desired but didn’t know how to ask for.

For a moment, she wonders if she should put on some music or fill the silence with chatter. She is so used to sex being a frenetic thing; even in moments of tenderness, there are sighs and gasps. Even earlier, there was the sound of rope against rope. But Maze is quiet, stretched out on the bed and following the swing of her hips as she makes her way back over. “Are you comfortable?” Eve asks, climbing back onto the bed. This time, she straddles Maze and rolls her hips against the latticework, sighing at the way it feels against her folds. Maze smirks, but remains still, a statue in dark marble. “You can answer, you know,” Eve says softly, fiddling with the vibrator.

“Do you want me to?” Maze’s voice is low, a rumbling challenge even as she appears helpless beneath her. 

Eve turns on the vibrator and presses it on the top of the knot at Maze’s sternum. “I want you to tell me how you feel.” How this feels, she means. They are not made for the word love, not yet, but it is a close and precious thing. As she speaks, she trails the toy over the patterns of her own creation and feels Maze shift beneath her. 

“I think you’re clever,” Maze says finally, reaching to trace the design she had tied on Eve’s arm. “Clever fingers, clever lips, clever mind.” The muscles of her abdomen twitch as the vibrator passes over her stomach. “Clever  _ temptress.” _ She continues tracing, following the back of the snake until she drops to skim her fingertips against Eve’s thigh. 

Her touch feels like static, crackling over Eve’s skin, and Eve’s concentration falters for a second as if she’s been denied touch until this moment.  _ “Maze,” _ she breathes, grasping at the vibrator and feeling it pulse in her fist. She had thought about dragging the vibrator up Maze’s throat, intended to press it against her lips before bringing it back down to her core. But this isn’t enough anymore. Eve leans down over Maze, feeling the ropes against her belly, and presses a kiss to her jaw. “What can I do for you?” she asks, suddenly desiring to press her own soul into Maze’s palms. 

“Keep going.” And that has been Maze’s mantra from the start. Keep going and you’ll figure it out along the way. Keep going but only if you  _ truly _ want to. Keep going because you’re never going to hurt me because _ I trust you. _

She squeezes the vibrator one last time before sitting up and settling back on Maze’s thighs. Once again, the toy follows a path of rope and skin until Eve presses it against Maze’s clit. She bucks beneath her with a whine, and Eve can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips. “That’s my girl,” she murmurs, shifting the toy so it rests nestled between Maze’s folds. She keeps the toy there, watching Maze’s abdomen, feeling her shift minutely to chase or relieve pressure, Eve isn’t sure which. Maze’s brows furrow in concentration, and Eve reaches up to smooth them out. 

As they stay there in stasis, she realizes that she is not used to Maze being like this for her, so good for her. The natural give and take they have built up is gone, and Maze has asked her to take, take,  _ take. _ And she is still not used to this, not yet. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispers, clutching Maze’s hand, seeking an answer in the space between her fingers.

There is no irony in Maze’s voice when she asks, “What do you desire?” The question that set Eve free in the beginning is the same now, though uttered by different lips. A reclamation. 

Eve meets Maze’s gaze and presses the barest of kisses to her lips. And then she moves, leaving ghosting kisses down Maze’s neck, her shoulders, the lines of the ropes and all the way down to the apex of her thighs. The vibrator is carefully shifted away and left to buzz on the mattress as Eve crouches between Maze’s legs with the grace of a lioness. She presses her tongue to Maze’s cunt, and she is dripping, far better than the juices of any fig in the garden. Eve feels at home as she licks iron and salt, learns the shape of Maze again and again. The ritual of this, the noises Maze makes and the shifting of her hips, is like the knots she tied, all that careful work to create something beautiful. 

Maze is not honey, but Eve doesn’t care, and when she comes, Eve’s tongue is buried inside, feeling her muscles clench as fiercely as she fights. She keeps the taste on her tongue as Maze settles, swiping one last time against her clit before she is gently pushed away. 

“Up,” Maze all but orders, tapping Eve’s shoulder. When Eve rises, Maze makes to tug her closer. They have done this before, and Eve wants it so badly. She settles over Maze’s face and grabs the edge of the bed frame. She trusts Maze to hold her steady, but she can’t trust herself.

There is urgency in Maze’s movements that belies the calm Eve knows she’s found. Her tongue is unyielding, and this is what Eve needs right now. It’s what she  _ wants. _ But still, beneath the teeth that scrape at her clit and the tongue that pushes into her heat, she can feel Maze’s desire to please, her desire to return the worthiness that Eve has bestowed upon this bed. She rides the swell of Maze’s passion until she is gasping for breath, one hand still braced against the bed frame and the other trying to bury itself in Maze’s hair. 

When she can breathe again, she slides down Maze’s body, feels the rasp of the rope against her own skin, and hums. Maze’s face glistens and there is pride etched across it. The demon skates her hand up Eve’s side and brushes them against her breasts for just a brief moment. And then she draws the shape of the cross against Eve’s shoulder, and it’s time.

Eve unties the ropes with reverence, removing them until all that's left is the imprint on Maze’s skin. She traces them with fingers and tongue, making her way back up Maze’s body to press a soft kiss to her lips. Maze grins against her lips. Later she’ll ask about rigging, about flowers and knots that hold Eve steady in the air. But now she presses her fingers into the muscles on Eve’s arm and soothes away the tension. 

“You looked so pretty,” Eve says when Maze has released her. She stretches out alongside Maze’s body, her fingers painting sigils across dark skin. “Thank you.” Though she only came once, she feels satiated, and she knows Maze does as well, her simmering existence tamed but not softened.

She feels Maze shift beside her, reaching for a cable that’s hidden near the edge of the mattress. Soft fairy lights flicker on above them, casting the room in a warm glow, and Maze settles back into the warmth of her body. The ropes still lay on the bed, draped over their ankles and slipping off the side of the bed. But Eve doesn’t care. There is time later to wash and wind them again, to put them gently back where they belong in her bag and keep them there for the next time. Now, Maze is here and solid against her, and she presses a kiss to the hollow of her throat. Maze’s reply is a rumbled murmur, a  _ thank you _ buried in trust and a snake wrapped around a wrist.

**Author's Note:**

> inspiration for the design eve created is [here](https://scontent-lga3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-15/sh0.08/e35/c0.169.1349.1349a/s640x640/69880883_550923179011037_1537389384863655995_n.jpg?_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.cdninstagram.com&_nc_cat=105&_nc_ohc=Lxjsi1eqSr8AX8f6UwU&oh=0c1e90182ac75677a8c4ed9794edd94a&oe=5EDC66F1) (no nudity in link)


End file.
